The Monsters We Become
by rayvenswytch
Summary: After Rachel's nearly lethal injection leaves Monroe sick, weak and vulnerable, it is up to Charlie to take care of him until he recovers. Leaving her plenty of time to consider the many ways in which she and Sebastian are not as different as she wishes they were. "Were you human once? The way that I was a little girl? What happened that changed you into a monster?"
1. Chapter 1

"Because no one else knows he's alive…because they are watching Rachel and Miles like hawks…because he is important to us…because he saved my life…"

For the hundredth, no the millionth time Charlie repeated the reasons why she was here to herself in a hushed tone so as not to wake the man sleeping in the room.

_Do you even call that sleeping_? She wondered. Or was he undead? She almost laughed thinking of happier times when they had been a family. Mom, Dad, Danny and her…the community had decided it would be good for the kids to celebrate Halloween that year. Danny had dressed up as a vampire. Funny how memories just snuck up on you out of nothing. A tangent thought, some offbeat remark and there you were with tears welling in your eyes, remembering the way he had smiled and ran around the house letting his cloak fan out behind him and laughing.

It made her want to kick Monroe in his damn head, made her want to kick him until he screamed, until he stopped screaming, until he really was dead.

But they were trusting her to keep him safe. They needed him…and he had saved her life.

She kept repeating that to herself as oil lamp on the old television set began to burn lower and came close to guttering out before she realized it. She took the stopper out of the hob nail patterned base and refilled it with oil. Blankets covered the windows to keep the light from being seen from outside. Not that they expected anyone to come searching the place for a dead man and a girl that no one knew was anywhere near Texas. The house had been ransacked for supplies years ago. No one should come stalking around out here. But Charlie had learned long ago to take precautions. Only once in a while her temper got the better of her good judgment.

Sebastian moaned weakly in his sleep…if that was what you called it…and she moved over to the side of the mattress where he lay and pulled the blankets up over his shoulders again. He was shivering. Trembling, too weak to so much as open his eyes and his clammy skin was chilled to her touch as she brushed a hand over his sweaty brow. Rachel had warned her that he'd be sick and weak for days. He'd been near dead from the injection and buried for almost six hours before he'd been dug up. No one was expecting him to leap to his feet and be brewing for a fight, come dawn's early light.

Charlie rose and gathered up the pitcher and bowl of fresh water that she had filled from a hand pump out in the yard. Next to it were her toiletries; a bar of soap, a wash cloth and towel. Nothing fancy, that was for sure. Charlie didn't really remember store bought scented soaps, or cosmetics really. Although she had seen some women wear them; but most of those women were whores. Even so she doubted that the makeup was the kind you used to find in a store.

She shook her head; her mind was filled with strange thoughts that night. She'd blame his company for that. Being alone with Monroe left her very uneasy. No wonder why her mind was coming up with such weird ideas.

She brought the bowl and washcloth over to the mattress and sat it down on the floor before coming to sit by his side. He moaned pathetically and shivered as she pulled the blanket down from his bare, dirt streaked chest.

"Oh, God…it's alright already. You're not dead, you're not going to die…your just…well…you were almost dead."

She shook her head and dunked the towel into the water and wrung it out before using it to start wiping the dirt off of his face. His eyelids did not so much as flutter but he seemed to slip back into a more peaceful rest at the feel of her touch on his cheek and along his jaw. Again she shook her head as she dipped the towel again and used it to wipe his neck and over one shoulder. Then it was the other shoulder and across his chest.

She didn't want to him to actually catch a chill so she paused there and dried his face, neck and shoulders before continuing to wash the grave dirt off of him. Her mind seemed to empty of all thought as she worked. The wet towel in her hand moving over the hard muscles of his chest, back up to his shoulders, down one arm to the elbow.

Sebastian was about the same age as Miles…Miles was a little younger than her Dad. She mused silently as her hand and the wet towel explored his flesh. It was not the first time she had seen him shirtless. Now she was just shirtless and half covered in dirt, but before it had been shirtless and bloody. Regardless of his physical condition, or how clean or not clean he was she had to admit Monroe had a very appealing physique. He was all lean hard muscle. Not a bit of fat on him as far as she had ever seen.

She dropped the wash cloth into the bowl again and picked up the towel to dry off the places on him she had made cleaner.

When you just considered the physical she could understand why women found him appealing. His features were chiseled, lips were soft, and his eyes…okay so his eyes were a fathomless oceanic blue that you could drown in if you stared to long. He'd have had a nice smile if he wasn't so cruel. But if he really were heartless why had he saved her life?

She'd wondered about that from the moment he had done it.

Sometimes she had to remind herself that he had also killed her brother Danny.

Sometimes when she looked at him, when he didn't realize she was looking, sometimes she almost forgot all the horrible things he had done to her, to her family, to others.

Having him lying there now, she could have forgotten. Maybe for a moment, an hour…a day…

She finished drying him off and went back to the wash cloth. Finishing both arms and hands and then lowering the blanket further to run it over the flat plain of his stomach. She marveled at how the small muscles of his defined abdomen reacted to her touch. She was so lost in the study of the play of all those muscles that she barely heard the small moan that escaped his lips. It registered in a faraway place distant from her musings and when she turned to look at him her palm was flat on his stomach and her fingers were wide spread over his abs. Her hand remained resting there. But she paused and was motionless except for the turn of her head until she realized that he might have felt her touch, but he wasn't really coherent. He reacted to it. But he didn't know who was touching him, or why.

She stared at him and let her fingertips trace the lines of his muscles and listened as soft sounds escaped his lips in response to her touch.

Humans liked to be touched. Especially when they were hurt or sick. Misery loved company. Did the fact that he could suffer and take solace form her touch make the monster Monroe nothing more than a human?

"Are you Bass? Were you human once? The way that I was a little girl? What happened that changed you into a monster?"

She shook the thought form her head long enough to dry his stomach and sides off. She was not removing his pants and she was too tired to consider rolling his dead weight over to wash his back for him. She had more than done her good deed for the day she figured. So she pulled the blankets up and tucked them in around him again before moving to take the bowl and towels back to the dresser where she had left the pitcher.

Her hands were shaking. How odd…she must really be exhausted she figured. She poured herself a cup of the fresh clean water from the pitcher and drank it down in one long series of swallows. She stood there for a moment before refilling the cup and bringing it over to where he lay.

This time she crouched at the head of the bed and set the cup on the floor. If she started questioning herself she'd stop what she was doing so she forced the thoughts of why's and who's and such from her head. More gently than she would have considered possible considering the man she was caring for; she lifted his head and shoulders and brought them into her lap so that he was propped up just enough to drink.

She didn't know if he could hear her or not but she explained herself regardless.

"You need to drink something or you'll get dehydrated. It's already been half a day since you had water or food…so we're going to try this. Just try to take a few sips. We need you better…you owe us big time for saving your sorry ass."

She reached for the cup and placed it at his lips and tilted it so that the barest trickle reached his mouth. She wanted him to drink not drown after all.

Although if she thought about it too much she might change her mind about that.

Just when she was ready to take the cup away and wipe his mouth Sebastian took a small, pathetically weak sip..and then a few more. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing for certain. It gave her some small amount of hope that her nursing skills wouldn't be needed for as long as Rachel believed. Bass was a tough son of a bitch, which should work in his favor.

"That was good. Really, good. In a few hours we'll try for some more. But for now I need to sleep."

She laid him back on the mattress gently and checked to make sure the blankets were covering him to his chin before she moved away and headed over to turn the lamp down for the night to conserve their oil. She decided to bring it over to the bed roll so that if he needed her before dawn she wouldn't be tripping over things in the dark trying to get to him. As she turned with the lamp in hand it cast its muted glow over the man huddled on the lumpy mattress in the center of the room. The shadows were dark under his eyes; partially a trick of the light and partially from whatever sickness lingered after the injection. He also had more than a smattering of cuts and bruises on him as he hadn't been taken without a good fight.

"_He was always good for a fight…well except maybe for now."_

And he was shaking again, shivering even with the blankets drawn up to his chin.

"_Christ sake, am I ever getting to sleep?"_

Charlie sighed and shook her head, scuffed off her boots and removed her belt before snatching up her bed roll and bringing it over to the dingy thread barren mattress and laying out bed roll beside Sebastian. She turned the wick down to low and set it down on her side of the 'bed' before climbing in beside him and drawing her blanket up over herself and whatever of him it would cover. She knew that if she tried to sleep away from him she'd be worried about him all night, and not get a bit of rest.

He was practically in a coma anyway so she could deny this ever happened.

She pressed herself up beside him and let her arm rest over his chest. After a few moments he stopped shaking and she let her eyes close and drifted off to sleep at his side.


	2. Chapter 2

_So dark, so cold…every bone ached, every muscle cramped…_

_So dark, so cold…not a sound, except his own labored breathing…_

_So dark, so cold…couldn't see his hand if it were in front of his face, couldn't move his hand to put it there_

_No sense of time, it could have been days, or months…_

_Miles would come for him, he was his partner, his best friend, his brother…he kept repeating it in his head_

_Miles would come for him_

_He wouldn't be left to die here, or worse to remain alive_

_At first the light and voices had brought some hope, some respite from nothingness_

_But he quickly realized that the voices were just the harbingers of torture._

_Long before there was a Monroe Republic, long before he was a man to be feared Sebastian Monroe was just a man. A man beaten bloody and broken, a man tormented for the enjoyment of his captors_

_He had learned everything he would ever know about how to break a person from the days and nights spent as their captive_

_Miles came for him like a one man army…but even after his rescue it took him months to recover from what they had done to him_

Charlie fell asleep as soon as her body came to rest beside him. She was exhausted form the events of the day. It felt like only minutes had passed before he began to groan in his sleep and thrash weakly at her side.

She was awake at the first sound that came from him.

"Monroe..damn it Monroe…"

She took hold of his shoulder and gave him a rough shake; couldn't he just sleep…

The moan that escaped from his lips sounded so wounded and pained she pulled her hand back like she had been burned.

"Sebastian?"

She leaned in close and ran her hand over his sweat soaked hair; he was trembling again, even more violently now. She pulled the blanket up over him tighter and stroked his cheek soothingly.

He muttered in his sleep, she could barely hear the words that came from his lips.

"Stop…please…don't…"

"Bas…hey…it's just me. It's Charlie…it's…it's okay…"

She knew fear when she saw it. She knew how it felt, what it looked like, how it sounded. She could tell that he was gripped by some kind of nightmare and whatever he was dreaming was terrifying. She had never thought for a moment that Sebastian Monroe knew a thing about being afraid but here they were and he was obviously haunted by something so dark and terrible that it reduced him to a shaking wreck in his sleep.

She pressed her body against his and ran her hand in slow circles over his chest and shoulder; her lips were so close to his ear as she whispered that he would feel the warmth of her breath on his neck.

"Sebastian…its okay…you're…"

She paused for a moment because it seems to very strange to be speaking to him this way, to be comforting him after all that he had done to her and her family. But here they were alone and she found her heart going out to him.

"You're safe Bas…your safe…"

He almost whimpered as she held him closer and hushed his fears as you would a child.

"Bas, its Charlie…can you hear me…Bas everything is okay. You're just dreaming. It's just a dream."

He coughed harshly and his eyelids fluttered those brilliant blues looking dazed and clouded form the remains of the drugs Rachel had given him.

"Charlie..?"

He turned his head; their faces so close his nose brushed her own.

"Yeah…you know me…Charlie."

"Charlie?"

He repeated his voice weak and confused.

"Yes, Charlie…just Charlie.."

He almost smiled, in the faint light filtering into the room through the newspaper on the windows she could see the expression on his face and it surprised her.

"Yeah…" she smiled back at him and ran her hand over his scruffy cheek. "Just Charlie."

"Where…what…?"

"Shhhh. You need to sleep. You've been dead just about all day. "

"Dead?"

"Well, close to it…Rachel…it's a long story. I'll tell you all about it later. Right now you need to rest, you're safe. The Patriots think your dead, we fooled them."

"You and Rachel…you saved me?"

He was putting the pieces together as best he could but regardless of his usual intellect and acumen it wasn't easy when the puzzle was incomplete and pieces were missing. Charlie had to think about that for a moment before she could nod.

"Yeah, I guess we did."

He almost laughed the thought of her and Rachel saving his ass was absurd. They hated him. And for very good reasons too. But the fact was he was alive thanks to them somehow. And Charlie was laying close beside him in the bed promising that he was safe.

There was a faint flicker of his usual sarcasm in his weakened tone, just enough to prove that his spirit was recovering a bit faster than his body.

"You're going to protect me?"

"You don't think I can?"

He thought about it, as best as his fuzzy mind could manage to think about anything and he realized that it was not Charlie's ability to protect him that he found funny, it was the fact that he was in need of her protection. It was the fact that she was here with him and seemed resolute about protecting him at all. That was astonishing.

So when he replied he sounded sincere.

"I know you can Charlie. I just don't know why you would."

"Because we need you Monroe. Now go back to sleep for God's sakes."

He nodded and closed his eyes, he'd drift off quickly, but now before wondering how sharing his bed and being so close, being so kind and comforting…how exactly did that fit into protecting him?

Not that he minded..no he didn't mind much at all.


	3. Chapter 3

They slept through the night without any more nightmares, without any more disruptions. Come dawn Charlie woke with her head pillowed on his shoulder and her hand lying on his chest where she could continue to feel the steadier rise and fall of his breathing. For a moment she lay there warm and comfortable at his side and then she realized who she was in bed with and she jumped away from him like he was something hot.

Or something morally forbidden.

Bass pop an eye open and looked over to her with the slightest grin on his face. His voice was a harsh rasp but not as weak as it had sounded the night before.

"How'd you sleep?"

She was pushing the blankets away and scrambling off the mattress when he spoke and she shot him a scathing glare wither eyes narrowed in regard to his attempt at humor.

"I didn't you thrashed around all night thank you very much."

"Bullshit."

He moved some and tried to push up on his arms to get into a sitting position but his head swam sickeningly and he found himself dropping back to the mattress.

"What did you do to me?"

"Rachel killed you."

She was on her feet then and walked over to the water pitcher and basin, after filling the cup for herself and taking a drink she brought it over to Monroe and held it out to him.

"Rachel killed me? Think you could elaborate on that."

He reached for the cup but his hands were shaking so much it sloshed over the rim and wet the blanket that still covered him to his waist. Blankets that left a lot of bare chest exposed. Charlie wanted to pull them up but she also didn't want Monroe realizing that the sight of him shirtless unnerved her. She laid her hand against his and helped to steady the cup as they brought it to his lips. He didn't much like being babied that way but it was better than pouring the water over himself so he let her help without saying a word. He sipped slowly at the water, his brilliant blue eyes staring boldly and directly into Charlie's.

"Rachel gave you an injection that slowed your heart rate and breathing down so much the Patriots declared you dead and buried you. Then she went back and dug you up and brought you here to me."

Bass finished his drink and Charlie set the cup to the side of the mattress on the floor where it would be out of the way.

"No wonder why I feel like ten kinds of shit, and smell like it too."

She nodded in agreement and watched as realization dawned in his gaze.

"I was buried alive?"

"Yeap…" she said matter of factly."You were buried alive."

He laid there in silence and let that sink in before he was able to speak again. Now that he had drank something his voice didn't sound like such a strained croak. Charlie was beyond glad that he was showing signs of recovering, not that she'd tell him that. She got up then and returned to the basin to wash her face and hands and run the warm water through her sleep mussed hair. She finger combed through the strands slowly and tugged out the knots until it laid damp and shiny over her shoulders and down her back.

Sebastian watched in a half mesmerized state. It was evident to anyone with eyes that Charlie was a beautiful girl and would turn into a stunning woman over the next few years. She was at that perfect age where all her potential was evident and the last blush of her youth was still bright in her cheeks. When she finished washing up he finally spoke again.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I'm here because anyone else would be missed in town; no one knows I'm back yet. And because we need you."

"Again with the bullshit. We both know you don't really need me, I'm valuable yes, but you don't need me. You'd be doing all of this without me. You might die but you'd still try to do this."

"Okay your right. I mean your good in a fight but you're also a psychopath. I could never fully trust you or your motives."

She sighed and picked up the basin and towel and brought it over to him. She'd had no intention of helping him wash up but looking at him in the morning light. Well, he was filthy and his skin had to be crawling form the dirt and he just looked too pathetic to ignore when helping wouldn't exactly be a hardship.

"I'm here because Miles would make a horrible nurse. My Mom would probably kill you and Grandpa..well he might kill you. "

She knelt down on the bed beside him and dunked the towel in the water and wrung it out before handing it over to him.

In a softer tone she spoke as she pressed it into his hand and held it there for a moment.

"I'm here because you saved my life."

Sebastian smiled but it wasn't the sardonic expression she may have been expecting. It was soft and genuine and didn't hold a bit of his usually biting sarcasm.

"Thank you Charlie."

He took the towel and started mopping his face and neck and working down his chest. Streams of dirt coursed over his skin. He held it out to Charlie when it was no longer damp and she rinsed and rewet it in the basin for him before handing it back.

He washed his arms and stomach. He ran the cloth over his chest as Charlie sat there and stared at anything but Monroe. The wall seemed of particular interest. When he had washed everything he could reach he held the towel back out to her. He was ready to just call it enough for a day but her discomfort at being so close to him all but forced him to push the envelope as far and as hard as he possibly could.

"Think you could help me sit up…maybe wash my back.."

When her head snapped back to him and she looked at him like he had grown a second head he added the word…

"Please.."

In a tone that was endearing a little plaintive and totally exploitative of his weakened condition.

"God, really?"

She shook her head but pushed the blankets down to his knees and slipped an arm under his and snaked it around his side and back. It brought her right up close to his chest and she could feel all that hard muscle against her only slightly softer form.

Sebastian held his breath, he could feel her up against him just as keenly as she did him and it was having a very similar effect. He wondered for a moment if this was a good idea at all but when you were in for a penny you may as well go for a pound.

Charlie hauled him up to sitting with his head on her shoulder and his body against hers. She just managed to reach for the towel and wring it out and then brought it up to his back. With slow motions that allowed her to explore his skin more than she'd ever admit she wanted to she began to wash from his neck to his waist. She'd never seen all the scars before. Stab wounds, bullet holes, thin lines and small starbursts patterned his flesh. Not enough of them to look grotesque but more than enough to serve as a map of the dangerous road he had traveled for so long. When her hands still almost to stopping he just stayed silent and let her sit there holding him and touching him so softly you'd think she believed he might break. Finally his nature got the better of him and he broke the silence with the sound of his own voice.

"That feels so good Charlie."

"Don't get used to it buddy. I'm not gonna play nurse to you for a moment longer than you need it."

She laid him back down then and he couldn't help but let a small pout of disappointment purse his lips. She took the basin away and left him lying on the bed. Without looking back to him she spoke.

"I have some rabbit and potatoes, some vegetables…things Miles left for us. I was going to make a stew for lunch. For breakfast we have oatmeal."

She hated oatmeal, always had but it was plentiful, filling and traveled well so she had eaten more than her fair share of it. She very vaguely remembered the taste of store bought cereal and the sight of little balls of color floating in a bowl of milk. Compared to oatmeal that cereal would be like eating candy.

"Yum, wall paper paste."

"You too huh? I hate the stuff…but you have to eat."

"I know, I know.."

She actually smiled then and went over to dig in her bags for the sack of rolled oats. IN the bag containing their provisions she found a surprise from Miles who knowing her hate of oatmeal had snuck them some very hard to find cinnamon and sugar in a small envelope.

"Miles you are the best."

She declared as she turned back to Bass who was glancing at her quizzically ion regard to her outburst.

"Cinnamon and sugar to give the wall paper paste some flavor."

Bass smiled and reached down and pulled the blanket back up to his shoulder and rolled over a bit to his side as she started a fire in the hearth. They had been so lucky to find this safe house the old farmhouse had a three fireplaces and this one at least was still fully functional.

Sebastian laughed some but he was having an increasingly hard time keeping his eyes open. When Charlie turned back to him he looked like he was dozing off. She set the breakfast fixings aside and went back over to the bed.

"Hey Monroe…before you knock back out take your pants off."

To put it mildly that brought him back to full awareness, or at least as alert as he was going to get while the drugs were still making him feel a nit hazy and blurred around the edges.

"What?"

"Your jeans Bass. Take off your jeans I'm going to go wash your clothes while I'm heading out for more water."

"Oh…yeah thanks."

It wasn't often that Sebastian Monroe found himself at a loss for words but there he was. He pushed the blankets down and started fumbling with the button and zipper of the jeans. He pushed them down over his hips and started trying to sit up to get them the rest of the way off. Charlie saw how difficult it was for him and shook her head.

"I'll help."

Again Monroe found himself without a word to say Charlie pretended not to notice as she pulled the blanket up over his hips and chest and then took a hold of his jeans on his thighs and worked them down his legs and off his feet. She could manage not to let it bother her if she just didn't think about the fact that she was pulling Monroe's pants off of him. He laid a hand over the blanket to preserve his modesty as she helped him strip down and she found herself grinning as she pulled off his socks as well.

She tossed the laundry on the floor at the foot of the bed and moved back up to cover him with the blanket. He was shivering again and she laid the back of her hand to his brow and found him cool but clammy to the touch. She ran her hand over his hair without thinking about it, it was the same way she had wither brother a million times. Only this man was most certainly not her brother and the way being near him made the butterflies flutter in her stomach was something she had never felt before with anyone.

She pulled her own blanket over form the other side of the bed and laid it over him; she stopped herself just shy of tucking it in.

"I feel pathetic."

He muttered.

"It won't last long, your one of the strongest men I know. Give it a day or two and you'll be back to normal and we'll all just be trying to catch up to you."

"I'm not good at being sick, I hate feeling weak."

"I know what you mean. That's why you need to rest now. I'll wake you when I have breakfast ready."

He nodded and let his eyes close again as exhaustion forced him into a quick but deep slumber.


End file.
